The Final Puzzle
by Spenney-Dee
Summary: The aftermath of Clive Dove's attack on London, and the tragedy's of the time travelling indecent have passed. Now Luke must leave the Professor's side when he is at his weakest, and Layton crumbles without him. Now Flora must come up with a plan to try and get the Professor back to his normal state, before his inner demons consume him...
1. Chapter 1: Goodbye, my Lover

It was finally over. Clive Dove and his mobile fortress had been subjugated, but at what cost? From the small side street where the three of them were, the smell of smoke and burning flesh was faint on the air. To add to the insult, the sounds of whirling police sirens and the civilians shouting and screaming in a frenzy. Yet all was calm around them, the noises were distant, as if from another world. Luke gave the Professor and Celeste, now Claire, their privacy, kicking a loose rock around away from them.

"I suppose this is it, Hershel." Claire said, after a long, meaningful silence between the parted lovers. "I have to go back to my own time. Back to that day when-" Her delicate neck pulsed as her swallowed back her emotions, knowing what horrors awaited her in the next few minutes. "When we parted."

"No, Claire…" Hershel mumbled, his usual calm exterior starting to crumble, his grief written on every inch of his handsome face.

"I'm sorry I can't stay," Claire's voice sighed, shaking as if on the verge of tears. She approached him and places her hands, softly balled up in fists, on his chest. Layton put his own hands on her shoulders, and they pulled each other close. Claire nuzzling her face into the crook between his pectoral muscles, taking in his scent one last time. Layton rested his head against hers, taking in that slight soapy smell from shampoo. Both of them wished that their embrace would last forever, until time stopped ticking. But such a fate was not possible for the pair. Claire pulled away from him slightly and put her hand on his cheek, reaching up to kiss him. Their lips pressed together silently, what was only a short wait for Claire, had been a ten year fast for Hershel, and he relished feeling those lips again, like a soldier returning home from the front. His eyes opened in surprise when her body fell away from his, and slowly walked away. Layton went to say something, but the lump of emotions in his throat was too big.

' _A gentleman must never cause a scene.'_ Hershel's mind immediately intruded. _Too hell with it, this is Claire!'_

"Claire, wait!" Her lithe body stopped where it stood as he pleaded. Slowly, she turned around to face her lover. Her body started to glow, and become translucent. It was a shock for Layton and Luke, but Claire was almost expecting it, looking at her shining body as if it were a usual thing.

"We had so many… plans for the future. Do you remember, Hershel? I'll-I'll miss you." Her voice cracked for a second, tears welling in her eyes. "And our… Lost Future." Hershel was also on the verge of crying,

"You… Can't go!" The Professor finally shouted, causing Claire to gasp in astonishment. "I don't want to say goodbye again. I can't I WON'T!" Despite the tears in her eyes, Claire smiled, proud that her once fiancée had finally let out his emotions and pain to her.

"I know you," she replied, "And I know you'll stay strong. After all…"

' _Please don't say it. For the love of God don't…"_

"That's what a gentleman does. I must go now, Hershel. Thank you for everything. Goodbye…" Claire turned and walked away from her lover, not stopping to turn and look back as she turned the corner.

"Huh?" Luke mumbled, finally waking up from his daydream. The boy ran as fast as he could after her, his rucksack bouncing around on his shoulder. He past the Professor, who only stood looking solemnly down at the cobblestone path. Luke got the corner where she turned, he stood confused for a few seconds, the gasped, and slackened his stance, realising what had happened.

"She's gone." Was all that he said. This caused Layton to turn away from his apprentice, and he cried quietly to himself, his shoulders to shake as the tears slid down his face. Despite the fires across the city, snow began to petal down from the sky, and Hershel Layton took of his hat that Claire gave him, looking up at the starry night…

.

.

Luke left the tiny street and went to Flora's side, as everyone else was waiting for the two. Layton followed him slowly, taking slow, sad steps.

"Is she…" Dimitri started, seeing the Professor's sullen face, and his had by his side.

"She- she's gone. Back to her own time."

"Wait, what does that mean?" Don Paolo asked, looking at the two men and their depressed looks. "Dim, why are you taking your hat of? Don't tell me-" the confused look on his face tuned to stunned surprise, and then horror, discerning the truth. "When, when did she go back to?"

"Back to when she was flung ten years into the future. The very moment of the blast." Paolo looked at the both of them, his face growing twisted as tears began to cloud his vision.

"So she's- no. No that can't be!" He rushed forward and grabbed Layton by the collar of his shirt. "Why didn't you stop her, Layton!? Why didn't you save her? Noooo!" He began to wail loudly, tears and snot flowing down his face, and his moustache. His usual grumpy and hostile demeanour was replaced by a bawling, howling child, sobbing in agony. Layton just stood there, staring blankly past him. Of all the people to comfort the professional doppelgänger, Flora was the one who knelt down beside him and put her hand on his shoulder. Don Paolo wrapped his arms around the girl tightly, burying his head into her shoulder. Luke went to intervene, Constable Barton held him back.

"Mr. Paolo needs to let it out. Leave him." Barton might not have been the best police officer, but his heart was certainly in the right place.

.

.

After almost ten minutes of Paolo's tears, he had calmed down, Flora having hummed to him softly to help calm him. After quietly thanking her, and patting the statue-still Professor on the shoulder, he walked into a nearby alley, hiding in the shadows as he usually did.

"I had better go after him," Dimitri said, shaking Chelmey's and Hershel's hands. "Better make sure he'll be alright." Before he followed Paolo, he pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to Luke.

"Call me if he gets worse." And with that, Dimitri Allen followed Don Paolo, disappearing into the shadows that they'd been living in for so long…

"Come on, let's go home." Hershel finally said, looking at the two children under his care. "I'd better call your parents Luke, them them you're okay." Luke, Layton, and Flora went to his car, now in normal driving mode, and drove quietly back home.


	2. Chapter 2: Gooodbye, my friend

The Final Puzzle Chapter 2

Needless to say, the night was a sleepless one, for many reasons. The carnage that London had suffered, the stink of smoke and burning flesh, the blaring sirens, as well as the things that had happened to the trio: Flora's kidnapping, Clive Dove's insanity, and the second passing of Claire Foley. Though Luke eventually drift away into sleep, Flora lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. Upstairs, she could hear the quiet sniffling and mewling of her guardian father. Oh how she wished she could comfort him, like she did Paolo. She hugged her pillow tighter, a couple of tears dribbling out of her own eyes as she wished for the embrace of sleep.

.

.

Flora and Luke and gotten up early to try and prepare breakfast for the Professor, as was their normal daily routine. A cup of tea with two slices of raisin toast, butter on the side.

"How are you feeling this morning?" Luke asked, pouring some cereal into a bowl.

"As good as I can be, I suppose…" Flora mumbled, drying her delicate hands with a tea towel. On the surface, she seemed unaffected, but deep down she was struggling. Flora hated herself over how easily she was kidnaped by Clive and the way that she was treated. The thing that she hadn't told anyone about was how those two men, Fisheye and Lockjaw had treated her. Nothing serious had happened, but they were not shy, or soft, when handling her. The sound of soft pattering down the stairs alerted them to Professor Layton's arrival. The man was still dressed in his pyjamas, a cowlick springing from his usually straight hair, not even the Professor could outsmart bedhead.

"Good morning, Professor!" Flora chimed, handing him a saucer, a cup of steaming tea atop. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept well, thank you." Layton answered, sipping at his drink. The dark rings under his eyes revealed the truth of the matter. Like her, he had also suffered a sleepless night. There was a sombre mood in the room for many reasons. The events of the night before were fresh on their minds, but today was also the day that Luke was destined to leave London for Spain. Clark Triton's work required the family to live elsewhere, plus the recent attack didn't help to persuade them to stay either. "Luke, my boy. Have you finished packing your bags?"

"Not yet," the apprentice answered, looking up from his breakfast, a moustache of milk staining his face. Truth be told, Luke was very reluctant to start as it only reminded him of leaving his mentors side. After all they'd been through, the things they'd seen, they had no right to be separated. Yet Luke resigned to the inevitable. He washed up his dishes and walked down the hallway to his room.

"Does he really have to go?" Flora asked, watching her friend leave.

"Unfortunately he does," Layton said sadly. "His father's work requires them to live elsewhere." There was something that didn't add up with that statement. Wasn't Clark Triton just the local mayor?

"Professor, I thought Mr. Triton was the mayor of Misthallery? Why would he need to live overseas?" The Professor took a long, slow sip at his tea, enjoying the taste of Flora's special blend.

"I've told you that Misthallery has some ruins nearby? Clark took great interest in them, and is moving to Europe, where he can study others like it." Luke and Layton had made a pact about the Azran, they would tell Flora that their ruins were from ancient times. She knew nothing about them being a precursor civilisation, or any of the trials and tribulations that they had put them through. As far as she was concerned, the Azran were nothing more than cavemen from the Neolithic period.

"I know Randall has the same interest too, he may even go to Monte d'Or to share notes."

"I'm sure that they'll fit right in wherever they go, i certainly hope so..." Flora looked sad at the thought of Luke leaving. Many saw the pair as brother and sister, but her was sixteen, and him fourteen. To her there had been something growing between them. The way that he smiled at her, and protected her at school, and helped her when she was in distress, she would miss him terribly. After the recent events that they had been through, it seemed unfair that they should be separated. She needed him, and she was damn sure the Professor was going to need him too.

"I'll go help him pack then," was all she mumbled as she left the kitchen.

.

.

She found Luke kneeling by his suitcase. Most of the clothes were packed, just a few things he'd collected from their adventures left. The goggles from the Towering Pagoda from 'Future London', and several of the masks that Don Paolo had made for his disguises: Dean Delmora, Inspector Chelmey, Dr. Schrader, even the mask of Professor Layton!

"Hey," Luke muttered, without looking up at her.

"I came to help you pack," Flora said, kneeling down beside him. Luke nodded silently, and she helped fold his clothes and sort them into the case properly, by both type and colour, just the way he liked it. That was one thing he was going to miss about her, she was so organised, and had such a methodical way of doing things, unlike him, always cluttering around chaotically. They had so many fond memories together. Walking the streets of St. Mystere, the festival at Dropstone, playing in the gardens of Gressenheller University, exploring the 'Future London', and countless other moments of everyday life that were simply special for no apparent reason.

"Have you heard from any of your friends?" Luke asked, finally clicking the seals on his case shut.

"N-no, I haven't yet." Flora mumbled. "I'm sure they're all fine though." In truth, she was terrified for them. Growing up the only human in a town full of robots built solely to amuse her made it unbelievably difficult for her to assimilate into mainstream society. Her origins in a small outback town that held strongly to its traditionalist values made her a target for marginalisation at school. Only recently had she began to be accepted. "What about your family? Are your parents okay?"

"They're fine," Luke nodded looking out the window. "All my friends are in Misthallery, so they're fine. Janice was hurt, but she's stable…" Luke shuddered, holding his knees to his chest. Professor Layton and Inspector Chelmey had been very careful to keep Flora away from the horrors of the attack, but left Luke fully exposed. The fires were nothing compared to the screaming crowds, the bodies that were being dragged into the streets, mangled, broken and burnt. And the _smell_! Oh god, it still stuck to inside his nostrils. He seemed fine on the exterior, yet inside, Luke was experiencing an unfathomable range of rage, grief, and shock. Flora shuffled beside him, leaning against him, and he leant on her. They had shared a special bond for many years, it would be crushing for them to be separated at a time like this when they need each other most. Luke quietly got his bags and left the room.

.

.

Little had the boy known, Layton and Flora had prepared a small farewell party for him before he left. But because of the previous night's disaster, almost everyone had canceled. Only Inspector Chelmey and Constable Barton were waiting outside the Professor's residence.

"Inspector Chelmey, what are you doing here?" Luke gasped, happy to see the lanky man.

"Just thought we'd stop by before we got back to work," the inspector grumbled. "Goin' to Germany for a holiday, eh?"

"N-no, Spain. And it's a permanent move."

"Finally, now Lay'on can have some piece and quiet!" Inspector Chelmey was always socially inept, and his utter disregard for Luke's feelings was evident of this.

"Goodbye Mr. Luke, sir!" Constable Barton hugged his chubby arms around the boy. The two were good friends, both following in the shadows of greater men. Barton was like Luke in every way. Chirpy, always getting into trouble, an unending hunger, all qualities that were polar opposites to their teachers. "I hope you come back to London one day! We'll have lunch down by the museum, and we can share stories!"

"Tha'll be a sure thing," Chelmey petted Luke's hat, ruffling the hair vigorously. "There's always a spot for you on the force, boy. So long as Barton pulls his finger out…" Just behind Chelmey, a strange old man approached. He waltzed past the two officers carrying a covered cage, put it down beside Luke, and walked away without another word.

"Professor, wasn't that-"

"I think it was indeed, my boy." Layton chuckled as a very familiar old coot gave a cackling laughter before turning the corner. "Strange man, that Mr. Stachenscarfen…" Luke unveiled the cage to find a very familiar beak inside.

"Hey, it's the parrot!" Luke's feathered friend from the 'future' chirped happily at seeing his master again. As soon as Barton went to say hello, the bird yelled "GET LOST!", causing the befuddled policeman to reel back in shock, offended by the sassy parrot.

"No, you don't need to say that anymore, birdie." Luke laughed, putting the cage in the car with his suitcase. The only person left to say goodbye to was Flora. Flora Layton Reinhold. Luke and her had been through so much together, whether it was an adventure by the Professor's side, or if they were just playing in the garden, or walking the streets of London. Luke had fallen for her soon after she came to stay with them, and she too, soon found her heart set on him. Luke had once discussed love and relationships with the Professor once, and Hershel knew how each felt, consenting to the possible relationship.

"So this is it, huh?" Flora sighed, looking down at the young man. "Goodbye, I guess…" They embraced tightly, taking in each other's scent one last time. Luke wanted to never let her go, he wished that none of this had ever happened: That Clive had attacked London, that he had to move away, and be separated from the only world he'd known for the last few years. The two separated, but still held onto each other's arms.

"Flora there's something I need to tell you," Luke started, shifting on the spot awkwardly. "Y''see, for a long time, I've been having these thoughts and feelings. And I think I know what they mean!" Luke's face was already rose red trying to touch the subject. Flora was smiling slightly, hoping this was going where she hoped. "I've been wanting to tell you this for a long time, but I was nervous. You see-"

"Stop," Flora said, putting her finger to his mouth. "Please… don't say it." Tears filled her beautiful eyes, only causing the rainbow of hazel colours to shine brighter. "It's something that can't happen. Not for a long time." Her face crept down to his, and placed a gentle kiss on his open, and shocked lips. Chelmey looked at Layton, flabbergasted at the 'children snogging it out', as he would have called it. The Professor only smiled back at the inspector. Deep down, he was overjoyed that Luke and Flora had become close, they deserved each other. When they finally parted Luke looked both euphoric and dazed at her, as if wanting to know why she'd done that, and why she stopped. Flora only giggled and opened the Laytonmobile's door, nudging him in.

"Go on, you'll miss the ferry!" Layton patted Flora on the shoulder before hopping into the driver's seat and revving the engine. The little red car chugged off, leaving the small party waving in their wake.

"Well, my boy. Was that your first kiss? I'm happy for you."

"Yeah..." Luke sighed happily, looking out the window at the London streets roll by.

.

.

As soon as they had parked at the docks, Brenda Triton pulled her son into her arms, bawling her eyes out.

"I was _so_ worried about you!" she sobbed, rocking their bodies roughly about. "We saw what happened from out hotel! That... that metal behemoth!"

"Now now, dear. I'm sure Hershel kept our boy safe." Clark Triton consoled her, patting his son on the hat. "Shame we had to meet under these circumstances, eh?"

"It is," Hershel nodded, placing Luke's luggage next to the family. "I hope everyone was safe."

"No one lost, thank God. Uncle Terry broke his shoulder, but he'll manage." Clark led Hershel around to the other side of the car, so that he could talk privately. The pair had been friends for a long time, and he could tell something was wrong. "Are you alright? You seem... of."

"I lost someone... someone very special last night." Hershel admitted, his memories instantly flashing back to those moments.

"Oh Hershel, I'm so sorry." Clark put a supporting and sympathetic hand on his shoulder, looking sadly at him. "Was it family, or…"

"My fiancé," Hershel answered, brushing past him to see Luke off. Brenda Triton kissed Hershel on the cheek before boarding. Clark shook his hand, before wrapping his arms around him.

"Thank you for turning my boy into a gentleman. You call me if you need, alright? I'm only a phone call away." Clark took the parrot's cage and followed his wife. Hershel waved to them as they went inside, the foghorn blowing.

"I guess this is goodbye…" Luke mumbled, hopping of the suitcase, staring at the ground solemnly.

"Oh no, my boy." Hershel replied, turning to his apprentice. "This is so long, not goodbye!" The boy's shoulders quivered as he held back the tears, but he couldn't supress the tiny sibs escaping his mouth. "Now, Luke. You know a gentleman, never makes a scene in public." Layton had to be stern even in this emotional time, otherwise Luke would never learn how to be a proper gentleman. Yet deep down, he felt the same way. Luke had only been a young boy when they shared their first adventure in Misthallery. Over the years, Luke had learnt so much. He'd become well mannered, social, and gentlemanly. Luke was a fine young man, and Hershel saw himself in the boy, though he had Randall Ascot's spirit for adventure. Luke turned to his mentor, tears rolling down his face.

"I'm sorry Professor, but I'm not a gentleman yet!" The boy began to cry openly, tears and snot rolling down his face as he wept. Luke rushed to the Professor, wrapping his arms around him and crying into his chest. The Professor seemed a little startled at first, not used to physical outbursts and making a scene.

"There, there." Layton mumbled to the boy after adjusting his hat. Hershel felt the same way as his apprentice; he did not want to be separated. After all they'd been through it wasn't right. They'd seen things that no other people had: A mythical creature and a fountain that could give life. A city built upon the ruins of a precursor civilisation. They had seen a machine that could give a dead person life, at the expense of another's. They had met an Azran Golem and witnessed the Azran Legacy. They had found a girl living in a village of robots made to care for her. They had uncovered the mystery of Pandora's Box, and met a woman that had travelled through time. They lived and died together, and were brought back. They had witnessed things that would drive an ordinary man mad been places never thought imaginable! Layton had spent hours debating and arguing with Luke's parents to make them stay, he'd even offered to pay them or even adopt the boy!

"I want you to remember something," Layton started, kneeling down so he was at Luke's level. "We have been through so much together, and made so many friends. Janice, Flora, Constable Barton, Randall, Inspector Chelmey, Mr. Wright and Maya-"

"Aurora?" Luke sniffled, trying his very best to let the Professor talk without being interrupted by his sobbing.

"Yes, especially Aurora," Layton smiled. He was well aware that Luke and her had formed a special bond, one that was never replaceable: his first love. "They are all a phone call away, as am I. You're 16, turning 17 soon, and I've watched you grow into a fine young man. I'm so very proud of you, my boy. You're like the son I never had."

"T-thank you, Professor." Luke smiled, feeling the professor slip something into his hand. A shiny gold coin, with the Professor's trademark logo on it; a hint coin. "A hint coin?"

"Sometimes even the best of us need help from time to time," The professor explained. Luke had always seen Layton as a paragon that never needed any assistance with his problems. But all that time, Luke was always there by his side, with a pouch full of hint coins.

"I'll come visit, I promise."

"I'll have a warm cup of tea waiting for you," Layton smiled, before hugging his apprentice once more. "Take care, Luke."

.

.

The foghorn blared one final time before the ship set sail. Professor Layton stood by his car watching her leave. Luke stood aft on the stern railings, waving England goodbye, and Layton waved back until the ship was nothing more than a dot on the horizon.

"Don't forget me…" Layton mumbled, looking to the sky, a single tear rolling down his cheek.


	3. Chapter 3: The Phone

The Professor decided before he went back home to go to work, though he doubted anyone was there for lessons. The London streets had been torn apart, either by craters from the numerous bombardments of shells, collapsed buildings, or the ominous footprints of the mobile fortress. Layton had to park several blocks away to be able to get to Gressenheller University. As Hershel walked the abandoned streets, the events of the previous night started to sink in. Most of the fires had been doused, but there were still people out on the streets, crying, screaming, and salvaging what they could from their homes. In large areas there were field hospitals, the doctors swamped under all the patients. Hershel couldn't even count the number of stretchers lying in wait, with only their concerned family to attend to them.

"Such a waste," Layton muttered, tipping his hat in respect to them. It was moments like this, seeing such destruction and death, that made him wonder _why_ he supported the people that made such things happen. In the past, Jean Descole, his own brother had been the reason for the destruction of Monte d'Or, and wreaked havoc across Misthallery before that. Only looking at how crippled London, the crown of the Old World was made him lose faith in these people, and himself for trusting them.

' _But they're only human,'_ A voice whispered on the wind, Claire's voice. _'Humans are known for making mistakes. Are you any different from them?'_

.

.

When Hershel finally arrived at Gressenheller University, he silently thanked God that she had been spared from the worst of the destruction. A shell had hit the front courtyard, shattering the windows and eviscerating the old iron gates, now lying bent and beaten on the footpath. Layton carefully traversed the debris and had found the old double doors kicked open.

"Oh no…" Inside the foyer was a mess. Everything had been broken, pilfered, or was taken.

"Looters, who would do such a thing?" an voice croaked amongst the wreckage.

"Dean Delmona!" Hershel knelt by his side. The old man clutched a broken picture frame, the photo inside badly torn. "What happened here? Are you alright?"

"I was here during the attack," The pale, fail man wheezed. "Shortly after, some men came in, and they started wrecking everything. I tried to stop them…" Delmona was clutching his side, and the hand came away, covered in blood.

"Goodness!" Hershel gasped. "There's a field hospital down in the park, let me-"

"It's too late for that, my boy." Delmona put his hand on Hershel's chest trying with what little strength he had to push his friend away. "I've been bleeding for hours, I won't make it."

"But we have to try," Dean Delmona didn't reply to that, rather looking around at the ruined lobby, and the picture he was grasping ever so tightly.

"This building was my entire life, Hershel. I only wish that I could have seen my granddaughter, one last time…" The old man slouched, dropping his head. The Professor didn't need to check on the old man, he was already dead.

.

.

With nothing better to do, Layton decided to check on his office and see what he could salvage. Luckily, his enthusiasm for puzzles was what kept the door sealed. Hershel sighed in relief, taking only a few seconds to solve the puzzle that sealed the lock in place. His key slid smoothly into place and he opened the door. Just as he'd hoped, everything was untouched, only a toppled tea set that had shattered. Hershel cleared the mess up and put it in the bin, but as he arose he noticed a small red flashing on his desk, telephone, and the message recorder. No one ever really called him, only a few people knew the number. And yet there were six messages left for him.

" _Hershel, it's your father, Roland!"_ the receiver buzzed. _"Just wanted to ring to let you know that we've finally moved into our new home in London! Just around the corner from the Kensington shops, and so close to the museum! It's lovely here. Anyway, call me soon and we'll have tea!"_

Roland and Lucille Layton weren't Hershel's true parents, yet they were the only family he remembered having.

"Let's see what else they have to say…" Layton mumbled, sitting down to hear the rest of the messages.

" _Hello honey,"_ Lucille started. _"It's been a week since your father called, no doubt you're on an adventure with that lovely young Luke! We visited the museum the other day and I saw lots of lovely things you may have enjoyed? Weren't you a part of the Akbadain exploration? They had an exhibit that featured their finds! Oh, the pie is burning, I'll call you soon!"_

Hershel smiled to himself, remembering fondly the taste of her pies. She never burn her cooking, unless talking to her son was involved, it seamed.

" _Hello again Hershel, it's your father."_ The message said. _"We've been reading the news recently, even since Bill Hawks disappeared. There'd been a lot of kidnappings, particularly of professors and scientists! Your mother and I are getting worried, since we haven't heard from you in almost two months! We'll come by your office on tonight."_ That message was dated at 9:30am, yesterday. Hershel pressed on, eager to hear what they had to say.

" _Hershel, boy. Still no sigh of you. We were at your office, but the cleaner, Rosa, said you were away still. We're home now and- Is that an earthquake?"_ There was barely enough time to register that last word. Earthquakes never happened in London, which could only mean one thing…

" _Hershel, there's something happening on the other side of the river! I see a lot of smoke and- Oh my god, what is that thing!? It's huge!"_ There was a pause before the last message, whether it was the machine calibrating or God toying with Layton's heart for good measure, it was driving the Professor crazy.

" _Hershel!"_ Lucille gasped, her voice shaky. _"There's a giant metal monster shooting destroying London! You need to get Luke and Flora to safety."_ She and Roland screamed at the sound of breaking glass and debris falling. _"No matter what happens, your father and I-"_ a brief explosive noise erupted, followed by static. The phone hadn't even hit the ground and shatter by the time Hershel was out the door. He sprinted down the hall, past his dead friend and outside faster than he'd ever run before. His tall hat was the only thing that hindered him from sprinting at full pace. Layton ran through crowds of people on the street, over potholes and around piles of rubble and burning cars.

' _It's just around the corner,'_ Hershel thought as he hurried to Kensington Street. ' _I'll turn the corner and see the museum, and everything will be-'_ Kensington Street was nothing more than a pile or rubble….


	4. Chapter 4: Kensington

"No…" Layton gasped, his legs going limp beneath him. The man had to find support from the remnants of a light pole before proceeding down the street. This was once one of the busiest, most lively streets in London, reduces to rubble and ash! The thoughts sent the Professor into a shock, but the sights before him only validated the cold truth.

"Lay'on, what're you up to?" A familiar voice asked, Inspector Chelmey approached the Professor, wearing long white latex gloves and a surgical mask. "There are so many bodies 'round here, the risk of disease is pretty high. Need to get the bodies cleared out 'fore an epidemic starts."

"My parents," Layton started. "Have you seen them?" The Professor's eyes darted around the scene, trying to see if there were any residents present. None that he could see, most had probably been evacuated.

"Can't say I 'ave," Chelmey answered, before receiving a call from his walkie-talkie. "Sorry, I have to take this. Feel free to look around I 'sppose." The inspector clomped away, dealing with another matter at hand. Where _were_ they? If Hershel were his parents, where would they go? Either to the university, or the museum, but both of these were piles of rubble.

"You there, top hat!" A paramedic shouted, bringing the man back to reality. "We need help! Are you a doctor?"  
"Me? No, but I do know first aid," Hershel answered.

"Then come here, we're so understaffed, we're loosing more than we can save!" On the operating table, which was really a kitchen table, was a young boy, probably Luke's age. His left arm was missing and his torso mangled from shrapnel and debris. A pair of rubber gloves and a surgical mask was shoved onto Layton, as if he had been a surgeon all his life.

"Why am I doing this?" Layton asked, not sure where to start. "I've never preformed surgery."

"That metal monster destroyed all the hospitals!" a nurse answered through her surgical mask. "Most of the doctors and surgeons were injured in the attack."

 _'Oh Clive,'_ Hershel thought, slipping on a pair or gloves. _'Why would you attack the hospitals?'_

"Grab those forceps and pull out that shard of metal," Hershel took the tiny tongs in his hand and peered into the wound. Among the guts and gizzards that glinted in the sunlight above them, a sharp scrap of steel had planted itself into the poor boy. Layton pressed the tool into the boy's body, grasping the shrapnel tightly. Sweat poured down his brow. Ever so gently, the shard was extracted from the child's body and placed in a metal dish.

"Well done," The nurse smiled from underneath her mask. "There's one in his shoulder." She picked up a scalpel, washing it with an alcoholic rub. " Just need to make an incis-"

"IT'S COMING DOWN!" a voice screamed, right before the world seemed to explode. Layton and many of the other doctors were knocked down as the wall of a neighbouring building crashed down. Hershel rose slowly, in a daze. All he could hear was screaming. What was strange was that it only came from one person, not many. Layton peered over to see that the young nurse had her hands clawing the sides of her face, shrieking hysterically. On the table lay the boy, yet the scalpel that was used on his shoulder had sliced across his neck.

"I just-" the nurse gasped. "I didn't mean to!" the began to scream like a banshee, howling hysterically.

"Just get outta here, tophat!" the surgeon pulled Layton to his feet and shoved him out of the tent. "Forget you saw anything!" the door of the tent was shut behind Hershel, who was left to wonder aimlessly. Hershel kept himself busy by doing what he could: clearing wreckage, aiding the injured, carrying stretchers. If was hard work, and all of it horrible. Layton did not think his calibre to be above such tasks, but the things he experienced. The taste of dust in his mouth, the strain from carrying debris, the sounds of shouting and sirens, and seeing the pure chaos, it would stay with him among all of the great and terrible things he had seen.

* * *

The street was lined with black blankets which covered the dead. There were more than could be accounted for. From a glance, Layton estimated over a hundred, just from this street.

"Righto!" Inspector Chelmey shouted on a megaphone. "The sun's starting to set. All civilians need to vacate the area!" The people around Layton looked annoyed, shouting at the officer. They were desperate to stay and find their loved ones. "Come back at 8 o'clock tomorrow morning if you want to keep helping. The Crown thanks you for your assistance!" The police who were present began to forcibly remove people from the site.

"Lay'on," Chelmey approached the Professor. "Can you come with me? I need to show you something."

"Certainly." Layton answered, having nothing better to do. "How can I assist you?" Inspector Chelmey walked slowly beside him, his lanky legs taking meaningful, careful steps. They passed between the isles of black blankets, which had were slowly being organised and identified.

"You didn't have to help, y'know." Chelmey spoke up. "You of all people deserve to sit this out."

"In all honesty Inspector, I feel partially responsible," Layton admitted. "Had I done more to help Clive, this whole thing might never have happened!" To the Inspector, and any other sane person, Layton was speaking absolute hogwash. Hershel Layton, gentleman and puzzle connoisseur, had gone above and beyond the call of duty to stop this. Who was responsible for saving all of the captured scientists? Who saved Bill Hawks? Who disabled the fortress? Who uncovered the corruption of the Prime Minister? All of those answers pointed to the same man.

"Well, I think that you've done enough." Chelmey finally said. "Normally you'd have had to have waited for the coroner's report, but I'm gonna show you now." They stopped by a pair of blankets. The bodies were crushed and mangled, still holding hands in an eternal lock. Despite all the damage the bodies received the faces were recognisable. Chelmey let out a sigh as he bent a knee and uncovered the faces. "I'm so sorry, Lay'on." Laying before them were the husband and wife, Lucile and Roland Layton.

* * *

Author's note: I can't apologise enough for my absence with this fanfic. I had my last year of school, so i needed to do that, and also just other things got in the way! I never forgot about this story though! It was always in the back of my mind, bubbling away. I thank you for your patience, let's keep at it! :)


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